


this is our sanctuary (we can find shelter and peace)

by violetdaphne



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Vulnerability, Whump, i don't know they're just soft, overwhelmed desi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetdaphne/pseuds/violetdaphne
Summary: She woke up, and it hurt. Her chest, her back, her knuckles, all protesting with a persistent ache that seemed to reach every muscle, every nerve. She bite her lip hard, shifting in the bed. The sheets clung to her skin with cold sweat, rubbing uncomfortably against the abrasions lining her stomach. She tried to reach for her phone on the nightstand, but her shoulder smarted suddenly, forcing her hand back to the bed. She released a steadying, shallow breath, but even that agitated her ribs.-Post 5x01
Relationships: Angus MacGyver/Desiree "Desi" Nguyen
Comments: 15
Kudos: 39





	this is our sanctuary (we can find shelter and peace)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've wanted to write for Mac and Desi for a while now, but was always kind of nervous to, but I was inspired not just by the last episode, but all the episodes in which the show writers completely ignore the fact that the amount of fighting the characters get into would have some lasting damage lol. I also just really love macdesi :) also this is not edited, any and all mistakes are mine, so sorry in advance!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

She woke up, and it  _ hurt _ . Her chest, her back, her knuckles, all protesting with a persistent ache that seemed to reach every muscle, every nerve. She bite her lip hard, shifting in the bed. The sheets clung to her skin with cold sweat, rubbing uncomfortably against the abrasions lining her stomach. She tried to reach for her phone on the nightstand, but her shoulder smarted suddenly, forcing her hand back to the bed. She released a steadying, shallow breath, but even that agitated her ribs.

She knew this was coming. The pain. After a mission like that, in which she had to utilize more brawn than brain, fighting off Salazar and his men nearly twice her size, both in the medical records room and on a  _ damn  _ staircase, she knew she would feel it in the morning, when the adrenaline wore off and the exhaustion kicked in. She probably should have gone straight to the infirmary at Phoenix when the plane landed, but that would mean a night of observation in those scratchy beds and too bright rooms with Mac insisting he stay with her because he knows she hates the place. She was just so  _ tired _ , and at that moment wanted nothing more than to sleep in her own bed, next to Mac, and not move for days. Besides, it hadn’t hurt that bad when they arrived home, just a twinge in her sides when she moved the wrong way. But now?  _ Shit _ , just laying there and breathing seemed to upset the bruises. She knew Mac kept a first aid kit in the bathroom, one from Phoenix that would have bandages and salves and pain pills that worked (Advil stopped helping her years ago). 

She turned her head as far as the pain in her neck would allow her; Mac lay silently beside her, blonde hair tousled and face relaxed as he slept. She didn’t want to wake him, he had enough trouble falling asleep that night as it was. Steeling herself, she tried to sit up, carefully pushing the blankets off of her and raising herself up on shaky arms. Her eyes watered, forcing back a whine, she threw her legs over the side of the bed. She simply sat there, nearly breathless against the pulsing pain radiating from her chest and abs.

She didn’t want to admit how long it took her to actually make her way to the bathroom. It was only a little bit of bruising, it shouldn’t be  _ hurting  _ this way. Then she turned the light on in the bathroom, faced the mirror -

_ Oh _ . 

She had gone to bed in only her sports bra and sweatpants she pilfered from Mac’s dresser, leaving the bruises that decorated her skin out on full display. An amalgamation of bruises, black and blue and purples of different shades and swelling covered her abdomen and chest, aching and sore. She turned to catch the damage done to her back, lines of parallel contusions that matched those of the staircase she tumbled down hours earlier. Some of the worser ones had scrapes, little red lines along the skin that distorted her tattoos on her side. Swallowing, a sharp sting in her neck caught her attention. Pushing her hair out of the way, she ran her fingers lightly over where one of Salazar’s men had jabbed her with the needle; a small hole that had its own share of bruising, reminding her too much of when the Merchant implanted the chip behind her ear. 

A shiver ran down her spine, and she pushed the thought of  _ him  _ to the side. She grabbed the kit from under the sink, setting it on the counter with a light thud. She had wanted to just grab the painkillers and go back to bed, but the state of her body, the throbbing that got worse the longer she stood there, changed her mind. Digging around in the kit, she pulled out the bruise cream and bandages, setting them aside. She hadn’t realized how close to the edge the bottle was until she turned to look for a wash cloth, and a loud thud broke the silence, one that she was  _ sure  _ would wake Mac. 

Cursing silently, she picked up the bottle, and listened. There was the sound of the sheets, some hushed grumbling, and then, nothing. Sighing, Desi straightened, facing the mirror again, leaning against the sink counter, cool beneath her fingers. She was still sweaty, and her body hurt, pain flaring again when her breaths deepened.  _ God, she just wanted to go back to sleep.  _

‘’Dez?’’ 

She startled, flinching backwards and letting out a small gasp as her muscles protested the sudden movement. Mac stood there, in the doorway, hand still on the knob, and looked at her with sleep addled eyes that became more aware as he took her in. She felt guilt burning in her gut, and wasn’t quite sure why, 

‘’Oh, Desi,’’ He said, and she could hear the concern in his voice, soft and breathy. ‘’What happened?’’ 

He stepped closer, hands hovering in the air around her, not knowing where to put them. She just stared at him, feeling useless and small and  _ tired _ . 

He seemed to realize she wasn’t going to answer him, not yet. ‘’I know the mission was tough, and you had to fight,  _ but _ ,’’ He swallowed heavily. ‘’I didn’t know it was this bad. Why didn’t you go to medical?’’

For whatever reason, that question did her in. She sniffed, and swiped at her eyes (she didn’t know when she started crying, or if she never really stopped), and fought to keep her voice from cracking on every word. ‘’I didn’t think _ it was that bad _ , and I just wanted to go  _ home _ , it was late and it didn’t hurt when I went to bed, but I woke up and it  _ hurts _ , Mac, but you were sleeping, and,’’ She’s babbling, spouting out words that get thinner as she goes on, and is grateful when Mac cuts her off, gently gathering her in his arms with so much careful tenderness that makes her cry harder. 

‘’ _ Sh, sh _ , it’s alright, you don’t need to justify yourself. You’re tired and in pain, it’s okay.’’ His arms wrap around her loosely, wary of the bruises but holding her tightly against him nonetheless. He guides her head to his neck, and she doesn’t hesitate to hide her face in his sleep shirt, winding her fingers into the fabric and breathing in his scent. He’s warm and soothing, familiar hands combing through her hair and running down her neck. It’s the most comfortable she felt all night, letting him hold her while she cries soft whimpers. She’s been wound up since she awoke, the overwhelming feelings she’s put off since the mission coming to the surface and spilling out onto Mac. 

It quiets, gradually, and she doesn’t quite realize she’s dozing off on Mac’s shoulder until he jostles her, rubbing a thumb over the puncture wound on her neck. ‘’That looks like it hurts.’’ 

‘’Mmhm.’’ She doesn’t have it in her to form a sentence, or keep her eyes open, itchy from the tears.

‘’Let me dress it?’’

She wants to say yes, to let Mac bandage her and care for her, but she honestly doesn't know if she’ll be able to stay awake long enough. 

‘’Desi?’’ 

She didn’t answer again, instead burying her head once more into his shoulder. She can feel him chuckle softly, pressing his lips to her hair. ‘’I know you’re tired, I’ll be quick, okay?’’ 

The want to clean and wrap her wounds wins out. She nods, but doesn’t move. Mac is gentle, understanding, as he leads her to sit on the closed toilet. She winces, letting out a low breath as her muscles strained against the action. Mac is right there, kneeling before her, massaging her side until she can breath normally, and she begins to question why she didn’t wake him up before. He moves to stand, but all she sees is him moving,  _ leaving _ , and she grabs at his hand before she can stop herself. He shushes her, squeezing her palm, and she’s grateful he doesn’t say anything about how hard she’s gripping his fingers, pressing against his pulse point. She thinks she zones out again, as Mac goes through the first aid kit, she doesn’t notice him dropping her hands, or them landing limp on her lap.

‘’Hey,’’ Mac brushes some hair behind her ear, running his knuckles along her cheek; it feels nice, and Desi idly wishes he would do this more often. She forces open her eyes, not sure when she closed them, and tries to focus back on Mac. ‘’I’m gonna clean your neck first, okay?’’

She nods, tilting her head into his open hand. Carefully, he wipes a damp washcloth over the injury before some cream that she assumes to be antibiotic. It stings the slightest, as Mac sticks the band aid on, one of those circular ones that crinkle in shape with the skin. He moves to her abs next, inspecting the scrapes that have yet to scab over and the bruises that blend in with her inked flesh. They receive the same treatment as her neck, the antibiotic cream, and small bandages for where they are the deepest. 

‘’D’you think anything broken?’’ He asks, nimble fingers pressing along her ribs. It hurts, but she knows everything is in place. The bruises ache, but there are no sharp pains, none of the piercing feelings she usually feels when she breaks a rib. She shakes her head, fiddling with the frayed string of the sweatpants. 

He catches her gaze. ‘’You sure?’’ 

She smiles a bit, and rolls her eyes. ‘’Yes,  _ Angus _ , I’m sure.’’ 

‘’Well, you don’t have the best track record,  _ Desiree _ .’’

‘’That was one time, and, in my defense, we were pretty busy that day!’’

‘’Bozer’s movie night does not constitute ‘busy’.’’ 

His laugh is warm and fills the room. It makes her smile wider, and moves her hands to hold his wrists. He leans into her, pressing his lips briefly to hers, solid and comforting. 

‘’Love you.’’

‘’Love you, too.’’ She yawns in between the words, but the message is clear all the same. 

She stands, and doesn’t say anything when he keeps a hand on her elbow. He’ll probably hover for the next couple of days, annoyingly stubborn with those puppy dog eyes that just want to help her. She swears, he can be infuriatingly  _ sweet _ . 

She dry swallows some of the painkillers, leaving the bottle and kit on the counter. It can be dealt with in the morning, when neither of them are falling asleep on their feet. 

Their bed is inviting and cozy. Mac, once again,  _ infuriatingly sweet _ , tucks the blanket and comforter around her before climbing in. He doesn’t put an arm around her, her sides too sensitive, but he does run his fingertips along her forearm, slow and soft, and she moves closer, into his space, his warmth. 

She’s asleep before she knows it, Mac’s breathing in her ear and skin on hers. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! <3


End file.
